On September 11, 2001, the day World Trade Center was attacked, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It’s a day the world will never forget, and one I have relived a thousand times.

Sitting in the doctor’s office, at 9:15 AM, the words come softly out of my physician’s mouth: “You have breast cancer.” In the background, I hear people screaming, “It’s not possible…” I think they are speaking about me. But they are not. As the first of the twin towers tumbles down to the world’s horror, I can’t see it, but I can feel it. I sense my life is over—I have breast cancer.”

Now, 13 years later, I can see with greater clarity. I am healthy and …